


Wildlands

by kendianna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Cross Country, Feral Behavior, Hurt/Comfort, Lack of control, M/M, Mates, Road Trip, Tracking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:38:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kendianna/pseuds/kendianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles isn't a superhero. He's not some kind of magical being, or a super genius; hell, he's not even really the nicest guy to be around. But he's the guy that loves his husband and his children and his pack and his family more than anything else, and right now that means he's the guy that's going to fight and fight and fight to get back the pieces of his life that he's lost. Because he is loyalty personified, and he's never going to stop until he gets his mate back by his side.</p><p>In other words: Stiles gets horifically injured, Derek flips his shit spectacularly, and now Stiles has to follow him around and pick up the broken shattered bits</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildlands

**LAKE BLANCHE - WASATCH NATIONAL FOREST, OUTSIDE SALT LAKE CITY**

_Sharp claws cut wildly across his face leaving jagged points of burning pressure. He staggered back, stumbled onto his ass really, and sat heavily, incredulous, pushing his fingers into the gouges just to convince himself that they were real. Realizing that he was still in the hot zone he scrambled back, trying to get behind the nearest tree, only to find that the attention had already drifted away like a leaf on the wind. He leaned against the ancient growth trunk, panting, watching forlornly as the huge wolf sniffed the air and wandered back out of the clearing, no clear direction in mind. The moment it was gone, Peter was back at his side, putting hands on his face and drawing thick black strands of pain up into his veins. Moist towelettes, antiseptic, and bandages appeared from out of his bag, and Stiles couldn’t help but let out a chuckle “I don’t even want to know how many times you’ve needed those”_

_Peter hummed thoughtfully “I was hoping you of all people wouldn’t have had to.”_

 

**BEACON HILLS, THREE DAYS PREVIOUS**

Black.

Everything is black, and his thoughts are sluggish.

Wait, go back. Why is everything black?

This can’t be good.

Ho boy, there’s definitely pain too. He feels it slithering across his skull and slamming outwards from a single point at the back of his head. Lots of pain. The throbbing, radiating kind. This is going to be a major inconvenience as soon as he manages to make everything stop being all-

Oh. It’s rather obvious when he thinks about it. The world hasn’t gone dark; his eyes are just closed. It surprises him that they’re not opening automatically; he’s always been the eyes-wide-open sort (he’s even been called doe-eyes on occasion, and now he’s thinking about bambi and wildfires and nope nope back on track), but when he tries to force them open it takes a surprising amount of energy, and they’re sliding closed to roll back into the recesses of his head almost instantly, creeping away from the blindingly bright lights.

Eyes hiding away safe from the nasty lights, his brain begins to kickstart his other senses. There’s something going on all around him that should be registering. It’s on the tip of his tongue. What _is_ it?

It’s…sound? Right. Duh. He can’t believe he forgot what _sound_ was. In all fairness though, he’s quite distracted by the darkness and the light and whatnot. A thought meanders across his mind; now that he recalls that the thing all around him is noise, what _is_ the noise?

He can tell almost immediately that one is a beeping, and when he focuses he can hear that another is a thrumming that’s almost a tangible feeling in the air. Now that he’s thinking a bit more clearly, it’s probably a generator, the great big noisy kind.

Logically, the only generator that big has to be at the hospital. And so the beeping, therefore, must be a heart rate machine. When he listens even harder he can hear soft voices talking all around him. He’d have to guess that he’s in a room and that there are several visitors.

So: hospital, unconscious, in a room with people who are visiting. He supposes he must have been in an accident. What happened to him? How long has he been out for? He can hear the monitor speed up, little beeps coming faster and faster. He begins to truly panic and his thoughts rush to- but then his headache intensifies.

And oh. _Oh,_ that is a _very_ bad pain. A deep pain that just oozes of wrongness. The lurching kind of pain that speaks of horrific tragic injury, and his mind flies to compound fractures and-

He hears a detached “mother of fuck” slurring out from somewhere a few inches away.

Hmm. It would seem that may have been him speaking, and now it’s causing quite the commotion.

And just as his senses had been bombarded a moment ago, everything begins to fade away, and again there is nothing but blackness.

 

**ONE DAY LATER**

“You did _what_?” rang awkwardly through the hospital, and everything in a hundred foot vicinity stopped for a moment. When the nurses began to titter and giggle amongst themselves and John and Scott flushed with embarrassment. Stiles muttered agitatedly and tried to move from his bed, but the moment he was upright his legs collapsed from under him and the IV ripped out of his arm. Though Scott caught him before he hit the ground, he had still shrieked from the jarring falling sensation, and within moments Melissa ran in to help him.

After Scott heaved him up back onto the bed, She fussed over him, wiping away blood and rubbing his legs, getting him situated and calm enough for the needles to be put back in. Struggling the whole time, he glared at his father and best friend who stood off to the side looking despondent. She made eyes at John, silently offering to drug his boy up a little more, which he shook his head no to.

Scott shuffled anxiously across the room when he realized his mother intended to stay, wrapping his arms around her and plopping his head on her shoulder. John made similar hesitant moves towards his son, and though Stiles flinched when his father sat at the edge of his bed, his stormy expression softened when he began stroking fingers through his hair soothingly. Scooting over to make room, he leaned bonelessly into John’s side. Clenched fists shook by his side as he whispered out angrily “Why would you do that to him? How could that possibly have seemed like a good idea? _Do you even know where he is right now_?” and the Sheriff sighed.

“You have to understand; when you went down we had no way of knowing if you’d ever even wake up again. This is…you don’t even know how much of a miracle this is that you’re here now _alive_. It still hasn’t clicked in my brain, but I’m sure soon I’ll be running around like a chicken with its head cut off any minute now” he shook his head and tried to wipe discreetly at the tears gathered in the corners of his eyes “Derek was…There was no consoling him.”

Scott moved to gingerly sit on the other side of the bed, nervously playing with the corner of the blanket, looking everywhere but at his friend “Dude, he completely lost control. First we thought you were dead, then we thought you would never recover. You don’t know how close they came to pulling the plug on you, and he was going crazier every day and we were worried for their safety”

Stiles seethed “I know you had their best interest in mind, but I just can’t believe you thought it would be smart to take his children away from him,” Stiles poked Scott’s leg hard, forcing him to make eye contact “I mean come on, after his mate went into a vegetative coma, after he already thought he lost almost everything.” he sighed deeply, and turned his palm up so that they could hold hands like they did when they were little, and a gigantically dopey grin exploded across Scott’s face as he grabbed his hand and held on tightly

Stiles grinned back at him, and reached a hand up to fluff his hair like he knew the other man secretly loved “Look I get that you were trying to help, and I know you had the best intentions, but I _need_ to see them…And when I have them with me, we are going to find him and get him home and if you don’t get me released from this hospital within two days there will be hell to pay” his best friend’s antics may have served to endear himself, but Stiles was still playing hardball – he wanted answers, and he was going to get them.  
__

During his heart to heart with Scott and his father, he learned that after he had been in the coma for two weeks, his children had been sent away to the Alaska pack with Allison and Lydia to watch after them. He had known that they were far away, but hearing it felt like an unbearable distance, and his determination to bring his family back together was ignited once again.

When he was finally by himself, his loving barnacles off either to eat or sleep or go on rounds, and his stream of nearly constant visitors depleted, he whipped out his phone and called up Tikaani, the alpha of their ally pack. She told him all about how the girls and the children had settled in and how they were doing and other social gossip that they both knew was merely a nicety.

When a tense silence held out over the line she dove right in and cut to the quick, divulging about how she thoroughly agreed with him that the entire idea had been a bad one in the first place, how separating Derek from his children was the worst thing that could have done, how sorry she was for not intervening, how his pack weren’t really to blame as they were all still young and inexperienced. They had a good long talk, and she told him she would arrange to have them all on the next flight back to California.

After speaking tearfully with his children on speakerphone for a few minutes, he returned his attention to the powerfully intelligent women. Tikaani was often considered one of the wisest and most knowledgeable elders on the continent; though she was happy to return his children to him, she was quick to advise that he not wait until he was burdened down and responsible with them to begin seeking Derek out. She told him to follow what the bond was telling him. If he needed to find him, he needed to find him, and there were always loyal pack members and family to care for his children when they returned home.

He felt his heartstrings being torn in two directions; his first desire had been to get his babies where he could see them and touch them and keep them safe - now though he felt the tug of his mate as his strongest instinctive pull. He knew that Derek was alive, but his mind was so heavy and dark and enraged and sad, and he was so very far away, and so alone. He could tell through their link that he was almost entirely animal, and he knew that at this point even if he found Derek relatively soon it would take much coaxing and patience to bring him back to his humanity. The only reason he wasn’t here already was because of the great distance, it was very possible that Derek couldn’t feel him awake yet, as it took every last bit of his focus for Stiles to feel his mate out at the edge of his mental reaches.

He let out a ragged sigh, tossing his head back against his flat plastic pillow. _Might as well make it fast, like ripping off a band-aid_ he thought, and he flipped his blanket aside and stood in one clumsy motion. He almost fell again; his legs shook like those of a newborn foal and staying upright was nearly impossible, but this time through sheer force of determination, within a few moments he was stumbling into the small bathroom. Giving himself a quick rinse down with antibacterial handsoap and paper towels, he hunched awkwardly over the sink to wash his hair, which had gotten a bit greasy. He had no idea how often they had bathed him. He took a brief moment to stand in front of the deliciously hot air of the hand dryer before struggling into the clothes he had found in a bag on the chair next to his bed.

Standing in front of the mirror, he examined himself. Paler than usual and hair longer than he remembered, but otherwise no big surprises. He searched for the injury, tenderly pressing all along his scalp and neck, until he came into contact with the huge knot that sent stars across his field of vision. The pain was so intense that he had to sit for a moment, sliding down the wall and thrusting his head between his knees, and massaging his temple where the epicenter of the pain was.

He didn’t remember much, all he really knew was that there had been a terrible accident. Something had happened and he’d hit his head. It had supposedly been one of the worst head injuries the doctors had ever seen, and only the machines had kept him alive for those weeks as his body healed. He didn’t know what had pushed him over back into the world of the living, but he had his suspicions that it had everything to do with what Derek was up to on his side of their bond.

__

As it would turn out, shortly after Derek had run off, Peter had pulled a disappearing act as well. While getting washed and dressed it had been a sharp point of interest in his mind; no one knew where either of them were, but no one had made the obvious connection that he was seeing either, and sitting in his car, the first call he made was to his mate’s uncle. The line rang and rang and rang, and when Stiles was almost certain that he wasn’t going to answer, Peter’s whispered voice cut across the connection “Who is this and why are you using Stiles’ phone?”

He was taken aback “You think I’d let other people use my phone? You should know me better than that” there was silence on the line, and then a choking noise “ _Stiles?_ So you’re awake then. I guess I really should have answered my phone. Do you know about-“ “Yes I know, and I’ve already pulled a jailbreak. I’m sitting in my car waiting for you to give me directions to wherever it is you are, because I’m pretty sure that’s where I’ll find Derek” Peter demurred softly “You were always such a clever boy. I can’t talk long, your boy’s gone totally feral and he’s moving fast. I’ve followed him all the way to Utah. Get to salt lake city and I’ll meet you there. Oh, and bring camping and coldweather gear”

And then he hung up, and Stiles sat in his car, feeling a little overwhelmed for a while, having a nice long cry.

__

He used Derek’s credit card at the sports gear store, having no idea how much was left in their bank after his long hospital stay, and was glad for the fact that it was always in his own wallet rather than his mate’s. Maybe he was overthinking, but he was a man who liked to be prepared rather than running scared, and so after a quick peek around hiking and camping websites, he had a good long list to go off of.

All of the employees treated him like a king as soon as they realized that he was basically buying everything a camper could ever possibly need. Lots of extra warm clothing and thermals and outerwear, all terrain hiking boots and thick socks, a new down jacket and liners as well as hats and gloves and neck wraps, all made it into the cart. He was so loaded down with equipment that it took several trips and the aid of a few strapping young employees to get it out to his SUV. He felt a shiver of guilt using the head wound card, but it got all of his things to the car without him having to do any of the exertion. He spent quite a while in the car in the parking lot, getting his gear out of its packaging and all sorted square away.

About a hundred miles out of town he called and left a message on his father’s phone, and on the pack house phone. _I’m so sorry; I’ll be back as soon as I find him. Tikaani’s sending the children home. Watch after them. Don’t come after me. Don’t call me. Don’t worry - Peter will be helping me. I love you._ Guilt sat heavy in his chest, but he pushed it away, and he drove nonstop for the next ten hours. Passing into Nevada, he took interstate 80 across the Great Basin all the way to Utah, and was in the city by mid afternoon the next day.

 

**SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH**

He stopped at a small café, and zealously ate his way through several bowls and plates of their daily specials. The tight crushing hug was unexpected when it came, especially from Peter, but he stood to return it. When they were both sat back down, Peter had a faint blush to his cheeks “We didn’t think you were going to make it. Giving you the bite after your injury would have killed you, and all this time I’ve been frantically worried that you would die and Derek would go even further into his feral state,” this caught Stiles’ attention “So what’s he been actually doing? Just scaring bunnies and stuff? He…he hasn’t hurt anyone, has he?”

"He's been mostly just running about, causing forest related mayhem - upending trees and killing animals. Occasionally he's gotten close enough to a residence to destry fences and sheds, but he hasn't made any unforgiveable moves. If he were to be distracted from his savagery and noticed another wolf or even a vulnerable human, he would surely attack”  Stiles was quiet, he sipped his coffee slowly. He took it black these days, but still packed it full of sugar like he did in his youth. He hummed into his cup “You truly believe he could kill someone?”

“Oh definitely, the only reason he hasn’t already is because I've been luring him away deep into the woods with deer carcasses”  
“But what about me? Do you think he’d hurt me?” Stiles hands clutched the mug tightly, and Peter glanced at him incredulously.  
“I think you should know by now that if there’s anyone on this planet that he would hesitate before killing, it’s going to be you.”

And the finished their coffees in silence.  
__

Peter directed him up into the mountains just outside of the city. They drove as far as possible and then headed up towards the dam. Stiles couldn’t help but chuckle when Peter led him off of the marked trail almost immediately. Of course this was going to be cross country, because obviously werewolves use walking paths. His own laugh startled him, it sounded weedy and thin.

It was the first time he’d laughed since he’d woken up, and it felt like an emotion wasted, when all throughout the forest around him he could feel the desperate pain Derek felt as he had wandered through this same patch of woods. With their bond, he felt the remnants of remorse and devastation that his mate had left behind like a trail leading to him. Realizing that he could have found him without Peter’s help was the saddest thought he had ever had, and he blinked back tears.

Shaking his head clear, he rushed to catch up to Peter, but found that he had stopped and had a hand held out behind him. He turned around slowly and pressed a finger to his lips, pointing towards the clearing just ahead. He mouthed out _go, I’ll be right behind you._

Stiles crept through the underbrush, unsure of whether he should be making noise or not – would Derek be more affected if he knew he was coming or if he was surprised? He didn’t want to startle him, but he didn’t want to give him time to attack either. Standing at the tree line he watched as Derek, in his alpha wolf form, scratched deep grooves into a rock – his poor claws, they were bloody and chipped around the edges, and one had broken off. He could see that they were slowly healing, but Derek wasn’t giving them a chance to, and just kept clawing away at the rock. It almost seemed like he was making a shape. That looked suspiciously like an S. He took a deep breath and stepped into the clearing, whispering his lover’s name.

Derek’s head popped up and in an instant he was in front of Stiles, towering over him, eyes wide and sniffing deeply. His eyes flashed bright glowing red, and his quivering nose inched closer to the top of Stiles’ head. Stiles felt like a bit of an idiot, but he held the palm of his hand out, stuttering out soft words and waiting like Hiccup for Derek to press his forehead against it. What he wasn’t expecting was for his arm to be pushed down and for sharp claws to cut wildly across his face, leaving jagged points of burning pressure.

He staggered back, stumbled onto his ass really, and sat heavily, incredulous, and pushed his fingers into the gouges just to convince himself that they were real. Realizing that he was still in the hot zone he scrambled back, trying to get behind the nearest tree, only to find that Derek’s attention had already drifted away like a leaf on the wind, and thjat he was. He leaned against the ancient growth trunk, panting, watching forlornly as the huge wolf sniffed the air and wandered back out of the clearing, no clear direction in mind. The moment he was gone, Peter was back at his side, putting hands on his face and drawing thick black strands of pain up into his veins. Moist towelettes, antiseptic, and bandages appeared from out of his bag, and Stiles couldn’t help but let out a chuckle “I don’t even want to know how many times you’ve needed to use those”

Peter stared at him thoughtfully “I was hoping that you of all people wouldn’t have had to”  
__

Face bandaged up and on its way to healing, sitting awkwardly with his dear uncle-in-law on a log in the clearing where his mate had torn his face to shreds, Stiles wanted nothing more than to sleep and sleep and sleep. His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing; jumping up and down like a manic rabbit and it was a struggle to collect himself “I think I can track him on my own from here” One slim eyebrow raised itself in response “Oh?”

He jumped when Peter’s hand pressed down onto his leg, stilling it “Yes, yes I can- I can feel the emotions he’s leaving behind. It’s like a real live carbon footprint, and I can actually see where he’s been. I couldn’t feel it as intensely in the city, but now that I’m here it’s getting stronger and stronger, even though he’s getting farther away. Being out here in the wild has…activated it or something? I don’t know, but I’ve never been able to feel our bond like this before now.” Peter made a noise of distress, and began to fidget in a way that was very unlike him. 

“Stiles I know what you're going to say, and I can’t let you wander off on your own after him. Having nice camping gear isn’t going to stave off any aftereffects of your coma-”

“I’m not asking your permission, Peter. He’s my mate and he’s walking the razor’s edge of being permanently feral. He’s vulnerable to hunters and he’s vulnerable to his own mind and judgment. He’s already been running around wild on his own for weeks, maybe over time if I follow him he’ll get used to me again. I’m not going to let him lose himself Peter. This is something I have to do”

He opened his mouth to retort but Stiles cut him off again “No Peter, I’ve made up my mind. Tikaani is sending my children home and I want you to be there when they arrive. I want them to be surrounded by as many people that love them as possible, and I want you out of Derek’s path of destruction. I can handle him on my own, I know I can. If he would attack even me, then this proves that he would definitely kill you if you got in his way” he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face “You know I hate pulling rank, but I want you to go back to Beacon Hills, and I don’t want to hear from you or the pack until I’ve found him. That’s an order, Peter”

He clapped a hand on Stiles’ shoulder, and without another word he was gone. Stiles stood reeling. Peter had never obeyed one of his Alpha mate orders before, always answering them with a thick chortle or blatant flippant sarcasm. For a moment he almost regretted sending Peter away - he took a moment to steel himself; this was real, he was in the wilderness with the deranged animalistic husk of his husband.

He could totally handle this.  
He was superman.  
He had a motherfucking _tent._


End file.
